Perfect Insanity (Rewrite)
by RagChinaDoll
Summary: While assisting the police in Manhattan, New York, Reid is kidnapped by the Unsub they are pursuing, a man out for the truth no matter the cost. As the clock counts down the team have to find Reid before the questions run cold and the killer gets exactly what he wants, revenge.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Perfect Insanity**

**Summary: While assisting the police in Manhattan, New York, Reid is kidnapped by the Unsub they are pursuing, a man out for the truth no matter the cost. As the clock counts down the team have to find Reid before the questions run cold and the killer gets exactly what he wants, revenge. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the show nor do I make any money from this publication. I'm simply borrowing them for innocent fun and will return them in a relatively unscratched condition. Also none of the places/locations/buildings mentioned in this story belong to me (nor have I ever been there), they're in America I'm across the world. **

**Warnings: mentions of child abuse, and some possible references to episode prior to season four.**

**A/N: I've lost the original notes and plot-lines that I was using for this story so have I decided that I will commence with a rewrite. I also think this way I've been able to write it the way I had wanted to originally. Sorry to those who have been waiting for an update of the original, if it hadn't of been for a few unfortunate events I may have had the original done quicker. **

**-Chapter One-**

Reid looked at one of the many boards, specifically the one with the maps pinned to it, standing in the temporary office they had been set up in. Spinning a paper clip between his fingers, the map became a three dimensional vision to his mind's eye plotting out the different locations that the crimes had been committed.

"What if we're not looking for multiple Unsubs?" he asked. "We've been working on the assumption that we're dealing with two unconnected Unsubs because of the differences in the murders, but what if it were the same person trying to look like two?"

"It's not unheard of," JJ noted standing behind him.

"A case of Dissociative Identity Disorder," Rossi said walking towards the third board, pinned with the crime scene photos of the male victims. "But it's unlikely, normally people with D.I.D there is at least one alter who is sympathetic towards the victim, one who is working against the dominate personality to regain control. No, these crimes, there too violent, there're well planned. Not the work of a person with personalities working in shifts"

The team had been called to assist the Manhattan Police Department who were dealing with two serial killers working at the same time. One who kidnapped middle aged men in public places, held them for three days, and then dumped their bodies in the silence of night after they had been beaten to death. The press had named the killer 'Mr Do Rotten' since all the victims were well knew members of various charities for the underprivileged or school board members. Seven bodies had been found.

The other Unsub was attacking families of four or more with at least two boys in the household. He would attack in five day intervals. The father and mother were tied up in the living room while the children would be locked in the nearest room available. Music would be blasted not too loud so to avoid attention but loud enough that the child would be unable to hear. The father was shot and would bleed to death. The mother beaten and subdued was forced to watch as her family was tortured. The eldest son's face was calved, hard enough to scar but not life threatening. And the youngest would be unharmed. So far five families had been attacked.

The team had a working theory for both cases. The theory for the families was that the Unsub was working up courage, using substitute families instead of his own in order to extract some revenge or right a wrong. It would explain the change in the Unsubs approach and the members of the family the Unsub why only certain members would be harmed. The theory for the men was similar, with a slight addition. The Unsub may have been targeting men who had something in common that wasn't as clear as day.

"Maybe the victims don't just represent someone he's angry at," Prentiss said walking around the bored to point at the photos tacked onto the board, "What if they are who he's angry at. I mean think of it, they've basically got the same jobs, same lively hood, and same family arrangements. That's too much of a coincident."

"BabyGirl may have something for you," Morgan said walking back into the room his phone in hand by his lips. After pushing a button and laying the phone on the table he said, "You're on speaker."

"_Hello my lovelies. I have returned victorious from the smoky underworld of your not so shiny white knights." _Garcia's voice floated from the small speakers sitting on the table. _"I've found various silenced complaints of child misconduct on two of them. Richard Michland AKA Austin Oscar Malden, don't blame him for the name change, had three charges of indecent exposure to a minor before the name change. I'm still looking but I've been going head to head on so many road blocks because of their connections I may have set a record._

"_But our poor families are a different story. I found a fountain of information on almost everything to do with their life. Get this each family was hacked a week before they were attacked. The Coles daughter's email account gave the killer access to family pictures, the Roberts son's blog, the only one who wasn't hacked or didn't report it was the Stuart's."_

"So the killer knew the layout of the house?" asked Sargent Julia Sanders who was working with the team. She had been tasked with helping the team with their investigation and to get them whatever they needed.

"_Correct my little Big Apple tagalong," _Garcia said her voice conveying happiness. _"I also found a connection between the families. All of them have applied to the school of belittling and bullying. The school in question is due to shut down at the end of the year."_

"Thanks, baby girl," Derek said retrieving his phone from the table.

A knock at the door caught the occupants attention. A round head popped into the room, the women's dark hair framing her pale face, "Sorry but Timmy Cole just walked in he wants to know if his mother and brother are going to be safe. I thought maybe one of you could talk to him."

"I'll go," Morgan stood and walked to the door. Before leaving he added as way of explanation, "I was with him in his interview at the hospital. I'll see what else he remembers."

"I want to go and speak with Mrs Atkinson again," Rossi said as he too stood and turned towards the door, "She's been giving us the run around ever since we've been here and I've had enough of it."

"I'll come with you, I used to her type of people," Emily said not mentioning the women reminded her of her own mother.

"JJ and I will visit the school, it's the only connection we have between the families. We may be able to find someone who can shed some light," Hotch said. Although they had been working on many leads none had ended in answered questions, they simply added more.

"I'm going to work on a theory of mine, the fact that the Unsub takes his victims to more than one location seems overly drastic. There may be significance to the locations and help us find his comfort zone," Reid said while picking up pens, makers, and maps of various kinds.

Each left for their own tasks unaware that a treat stood right outside the door they walked though.

**End of Chapter**

**I know it is smaller than I would normally write but I have my reasons. **

**In terms of updates, they may be far and few between. This story is a pain in my neck because it's not working the way I want it too, so I've decided to post a new chapter each time it's finished. This may mean previous chapter may be edited at a later date. **

**Please review, they help.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Terribly, terribly, terribly sorry for the incredible long delay in updating. To be perfectly honest with you, my love for the show and been sig sagging more often than Reid's happiness. I also decided to post this tonight because I know that in America the season nine finale is about to happen, so maybe this will cheer/add to your misery. All in all it might help waste time until it's on. **

**Thank you to KNoelB, The-blackfirewolf, Silverspeare, Bob, AliceReidCaffery26, Darkus starlara, delia cerrano, criminalxxxmindsxxxfreak, pipinheart, and 50shadesofMoReid for reviewing and faviouriting. I appreciate your wonderful reviews and hope that history does not repeat itself. **

**Chapter Two**

Morgan looked at the young boy in front of him. Timothy Samuel Cole was nine years old, wanted to be a fire truck or a 'house painter', he didn't like the colour red because it was his sisters favourite, and he recently had been forced to listen to his family being brutally attacked in the living room as he hid under his parents bed.

The boys brother was still in hospital and would possible never regain the use of his right arm because of excessive muscle damage. His father had died on scene and his mother was lying in a hospital bed brain dead yet still on life support until her brother, flying in from Toronto to pick up the nephew's and niece who will move to live with him, could make the tough choice over his sisters life. His sister was the only over member of the family who escaped the situation unscathed.

The two of them were found locked in their parents' bedroom, both hiding under the bed, Tim with his hands covering his sisters' ears so she wouldn't have to listen to the screaming.

"What's going on inside your head kid?" Morgan asked of the meek child who looked at him with scared youthful eyes. He was seated in a seat that was from his seat that he was too big to fit in.

"Mommy doesn't look like mommy," he said softly looking at teddy bear in his hands with a damaged cape.

Morgan looked at him not knowing what to say.

"Mike hasn't said anything and Sarah keeps crying," the six year old nearly sobbed his fingers tightening his grip on the teddy bears body.

"I know right now things don't look like they can get better, but trust me kid one day they will, and you won't even realise it."

They were quite for a while, both comfortable in the silence.

"I heard the man yell some," Tim said still twisting his sleeve, "He shouted at mama and then she screamed, 'You stupid…'" the boy paused. He leaned over to Morgan and whispered, "Mike says it's a bad word so I shouldn't say it."

Morgan smiled, and relaxed some when Tim also smiled, "That's okay Kid. Did you hear him say anything else?"

"He told mommy he wasn't protecting us from the men. That she was only helping the men," he leaned over to Morgan and quietly whispered, "He said the men in suits can't be trusted."

"Agent Morgan," Constable Hadley said alerting Morgan to their entrance. Hadley was a thirty-five year old Australian man who had only been with the force for three years after leaving his previous job as a research technician.

Stood beside Hadley was Timothy's Social Worker Sarah, simply Sarah as she had introduced herself, "We should leave soon, it's getting dark out," she said in her petite voice.

"Mister Morgan," Tommy said as he stood and walked to the door. "Zero wants to help you," he held up the teddy bear, the cape swinging limply, "He's good at stopping the bad guys."

Morgan took the toy with a smile on his face. Tommy smiled too and turned to the door, taking Sarah's hand as they left. Morgan waited a moment before standing and leaving the room. On his way back to the conference room he couldn't help but think about what sort of future he'd have with half his family taken away from him.

"I'm telling you Reid that kid is…" he stopped mid-sentence as he looked up. The room had been trashed; papers once in a disordered fashion on the table now decorated the floor, the notice boarder and chairs had been turned over and left in a dismembered heap on the floor.

And the person he expected to be in the room. Seated in one of the turned over chairs holding one of the torn maps, was nowhere to be seen. Placed in the centre of the one remaining standing table was a map with XXIV written on it in black marker.

At the foot of the table on the chair with a broken back was a orange and green strippy tie. The same tie he had seen Reid wearing that morning.

A deep coldness had settled over his body amidst the darkness. His eyes were open but all he could see was darkness. A fait dripping in the background had captivated his hearing but he could not explain what it was. He could smell the scent of burnt chemicals disorientating his mind.

A battle was warning between his stomach and head as to who was hurting the most. As he pushed himself up of the hard bed he lay on, his mind trying to show him a reel of film describing how he had ended up here. But all he could see a damaged, dust covered spool of film.

The room he was in was brown in colour. Everything was brown and grey, not the happy encouraging shade of the two colours the bland and boring ones.

Decaying boxes piled against the walls gave him no clue as to where he was. A fait whisper of an insignia printed on the boxes could be seen but was unreadable from his position.

As his feet lightly touched the floor the show reel flickered with the first scene of his memory. The reel showed him seated at a desk, three coloured pens in hand as he marked lines and dots on a map of the local areas. Burn marks cover the next few seconds of time but sound remained. He could hear footsteps in the quite room, the sound of the door closing and the incorruptible sound of ringing phones in the distance. When the image becomes clear again all he can see is a blurred figure standing above his glazed view.

He Reid forced his mind to fill in the black spaces between the two scenes, but his internal editing sweet was keeping it away from him.

He looked around the room. There was a door with a black window above it, he walked over and tried to turn the handle but it would neither turn left nor right. Above the blackened window was a box, not like the decayed ones on the floor, this one looked like it was made from glass as it glistered with the reflecting light from the three lamps that extruded from the wall.

As he looked down a sudden flash of red light draw him back to the glass box. The glass box now shined with red letters. XXIII flashed three times followed by a click behind him.

Another fragment of his damaged memory flicked before his mind's eye. It was of a camera floating in the air with a shining light staring at him.

Another click and then a voice filtered thought the air.

"My name is Spencer Reid. My life is in your hands."

**-End of Chapter-**

**So what do you think? Hope you enjoyed it. It took me a while to think about what I want to do differently this time around and now that I have a few ideas floating around my head, I hope the next chapter will be up soon(ish).**

**Please review, they help. **


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